Thirty-Six: A Want For Answers

The Aliens begin to wake, but everything is not as simple as it first appeared.

System: Iitharra
Location: Space

The silence stretched thin in the med-bay. They had all been here too much lately, for one another as well as for those that were still recovering from the latest encounter with the Galra.
Too many times were the cryogenic chambers occupied, if not for healing, then just to torture the Paladins with their last memory of Lance.

The Paladins had all taken their own time to stand in front of Lance's healing pod, apologising to him for their mistakes, as if the memory could grant them the retribution that they all sought for their mistakes and lack of action. The healing pod was a gravestone for them; a marker to which they could tie their regrets and sorrows. To lessen their daily burden. The only one who hadn't was Keith.
Even now as he stood in the centre of the room, no such thought came to his mind. It wouldn't be to a gravestone he'd apologise, but to the boy himself, when he finally found him.

The boy stands now, caught in the moment of confusion. He knows that Lance is waiting for him, and there, awake, ready to answer all of Keith's questions is that blasted alien that knows if Lance is with his rogue group of pirates or not.

But Keith's not asking questions.
It doesn't matter that frustration tightens his throat, impatience worn like a cloak, dragging nails over his skin as he stands and waits. Arms folded, lips closed.

Rayon is similar to his brothers in many ways, taller by an inch so but not much more. It is his attitude that makes note of his age, or at least the role of older twin because there can't be many more than a few years between them.
He appears taller than he had when frozen in stasis, stood tall and proud with his head high. Yet not a pruning peacock is he, but a wolf that toes the line of territory to defend his pack mates. Kenmare, cub-like in comparison, shows no such hostility, but he too shows signs that the replenishing technology of ancient Altean medicine has worked its magic deep into his bones. The lingering tiredness of hastened healing as pulled him to sit cross legged on the floor, worry sets his fingers fidgeting but he is happy to share his immediate space with Hunk. The big guy was sat next to the Alien, trying to fill the silence with reassurances about the effects of the cryo-pods, that Uilt'xen and Leonel will be better one the healing is complete, perhaps rest and food, and maybe a bath to boot.

The two are already looking far better. The cuts that littered the Daratrine's body have all closed up and colour has returned to her once pale skin.

Even Rayon, looks well rested, although he's refused sleep, food and any other invitation to would expect him to leave his family unguarded.
No one has told him, or Kenmare for that matter, that Orvis is aboard. But watching Rayon's attitude now, the team can presume that their reunion will be less than welcoming. For now, Orvis remains in the Lion Hangar under the watch of Pidge, who wasn't in the mood for tearful reunions. Not until it was a reunion with the Blue Paladin.
Keith understood. He felt the same.

As well as irritation. Because there are now two aliens awake, so that means one of them should be ready to answer some questions.
But not yet, as the rest declared, warning Keith not to overwhelm them. Shiro was adamant with the gentle approach; his own torture the experience that says familiar faces are the most important, and even though Kenmare is willing to trust Voltron, the others may not be as accepting.

Rayon certainly acts as such, mirroring Keith in the way that he stands between Uilt'xen and the gathered team, his arms folded, his glare turned upon each when they dare meet his eyes. Keith has stared him down plenty, his gaze only pulled from the scarred, shelled alien to that of the cryo-pod that sings out the sounds of it's completed programming.
Coran is happy to inform the Draora twins that Leonel's barb is completely healed, and the burns on his bulb are only skin-deep: scarring that won't heal without another session in the healing-pod with the additional information of skin-graphed cells. Rayon makes it explicitly clear that Leonel will not be kept prisoner in the tank any longer than he needs to. He implies they're still holding the pirate's hostage.
It riles Keith up, but before he can think to draw his bayard and declare war against the rogues, Shiro curbs his tongue. But the reaction was what the older had expected, if Rayon's sneer was to go by. Nonetheless, he asks for Shiro's apology, prompted by his younger twin's complaints about not riling up possible allies.

Yes, Shiro and Allura had already spent their time talking to the pair about their alternate plan that would have followed, with the rescue mission having been successful. Neither pirate have offered the possibility of confirming an agreement of such, but offered their ears in politeness, and perhaps even a step towards payment in thanks for their rescuing.
By the Princess's smile and Shiro's calmness, Keith can guess what direction it has gone in.
But neither have asked of Lance, nor did they consider the thought to. And for that, he's allowed to feel angry.

Everyone's attentions turn to Leonel's pod, Keith and Rayon forgetting their glaring competition also. While the half-Human hangs back, Rayon abandons his guard of Uilt'xen in favour of rushing to the dissolving glass to catch Leonel before he tumbled out onto the hard floor.
The spider had barely taken a step, his body moving on cause without the conscious mind when he fell into the arms of Kenmare and Rayon together, mindful of the Vhoadan's poison secreting from his barbs.

"Leonel? Leonel?" Despite Rayon's guarded exterior, it isn't hard to see that he cares for his family, sinking with the spider to the floor, keeping him on his lap until his mind can catch up to waking.
"What's wrong with him?" Kenmare worried, catching onto his brother's distrust as he turned to the Paladins that still held back, the flare of his eyes finding them to blame for the unknown.
Hunk had moved to stand with the team, giving the three space but now he steps forward again, hands raised in mock surrender. "He's fine Kenmare, he just needs time to come round. It is different for everyone on how they experience the healing pod, but Coran has checked Leonel's vital signs. He is healed. Now he just needs to wake."

With less certainty than Hunk hoped for, Kenmare accepts his words, turning his back once again. Worried eyes meet Rayon's, washing over Leonel as his mind races, chasing ideas that he hopes might help.
But before any decision can be made, Leonel gasps, oxygen filling his lungs, his body needing to breathe. An arm shoots out blindly, his barbs following suit where they had been folded beneath him. His conscious registered only panic, his mind caught in the fear of still being trapped on Genwar, and he acted accordingly, defending himself.

It was to the Draora brothers who felt the sting of his barbs, the two of them thrown back from subconscious strength, Leonel screaming names of his family as if he really was fighting for his life, for their lives. For all he knew, he still was.

Eyes blinded with fear, Leonel forced himself to stand. Legs weak, body weaker, he relied on his barbs to keep himself standing. Kenmare made the mistake of moving in again to help him, offer his shoulder as support, something. But the need to breathe took his focus when Leonel lashed out with his hand, took him around the throat, and squeezed.

"Leonel no, Leonel stop!" Noise erupted, louder than Leonel's screams, louder than Rayon's own panic as his brother's eyes begin to roll back in his head.

Keith was the closest, darting in, quick, his fingers already over Leonel's, trying to dig between nail and flesh. To let Kenmare breathe.

Leonel only saw a threat. He threw his other fist in the boy's direction, caught by Rayon, but the Draora couldn't catch the barb that came from behind him, scratching deep down Keith's forearm. The sliced skin stung, but it did nothing to the stubborn idiot who just yelled at Leonel to stop, pouring all authority he could into his voice. It only made Leonel thrash worse.

"Give them back to me," he roared, rising up on his barbs, turning to throw them off of him. Kenmare remained in his grip, the clawing of his own hands weakening.
"Leonel, stop!" Shiro yelled, torn between charging the rampaging Vhoadan and hanging back to give him space. "We are not Galra. We are you allies, you are safe now." At the mention of his captors, Leonel threw a punch in the Black Paladin's direction, but he was too far to connect.
"Lies! I won't let you break me. I'll kill you all!"

Coran grabbed Allura, pulling the Princess from harm's way when she herself attempted to follow Shiro. He was on Leonel, helping Rayon to pin him to the floor despite everything in his head telling him this wasn't what Leonel needed, they were only pushing him further down the rabbit hole. Rayon still had Leonel around the middle, Keith ignoring the blood on his arm so that he and his brother helped Kenmare.
Shiro's prosthetic was strong enough to overcome Leonel's subconscious strength, pulling at his three fingers that were close to collapsing Kenmare's wind pipe. "Leonel, let go!"
But why should he? Why should he listen to the voices unfamiliar to him? Why should he listen to Voltron any more than he listened to the Galra that have tortured him, torn his mind from its shell and pull it apart. Bruised it, beaten it, flayed and fractured it, until his mind had snapped to the point that he was attacking his Brother because he didn't even recognise him.

"Leonel you're killing him. Let Kenmare go!"
"Kenmare?"

The name was familiar. It jarred the muscles in his hands and, yes, Shiro was able to pry the digits open enough for Kenmare to fall from the spider's grasp, retching and coughing. Hunk had him, holding him up, pulling him back from danger.

Leonel has frozen, laying still in Rayon's hold. He doesn't fight him, neither Keith who still puts pressure to his arm, in case he tries to attack anyone else.

"Kenmare?" The name is familiar to him.
His eyes flash with recognition, blinking repeatedly. He lies still, listening to the sounds around him, differentiating them to the screams he'd hear on Genwar as one of his family was taken by her.
He can hear Kenmare gasping for air, the soft tones of Alur and Hunk calming him, holding him steady as he rubs the space between shell and shoulder blades, bringing him to the floor in case the older passes out. "Kenmare it's okay, just breathe. Breathe."

"Kenmare?"

Leonel blinks open his eyes, all of them flickering.
The colour has returned to them and he can see, the pathway from vision to memory is clear and he recognises Kenmare for who he is. Rayon too, as the Vhoadan turns his head, meeting confusion with worry. Keith can see the understanding they share; and now the danger has passed, releases him.
Leonel's not angry now. It's gone; evaporated as quickly as the situation dissolved into nothing but heavy breathing and beating hearts.

But fear is quickly replacing anger, and from past experiences, that can be just as damaging as the rage that almost saw to Kenmare's death. Keith doesn't know if he should try and explain what is going on, with Rayon and Shiro too busy catching their breath. Neither is acutely aware of the shudder that trembles through Leonel's his legs, like he's doing all he can, not to lash out again.
The responsibility, however, is quickly claimed by Hunk, just as eagle-eyed as the Red Paladin. He moves from Kenmare, who sits by Allura, letting her press her finger's gently to his neck to check for damage. But he's breathing, so Keith doesn't fear Leonel's grip has done much more than bruise him, and maybe give him a little scare too.

Hunk starts off slow, introducing the Paladins as Leonel remains on the floor, not yet ready to move, Rayon not yet ready to unwind his arms.

The air is heavy. Not just for the aliens, but Shiro too, who wears a pained expression as he watches on. Keith knows why; the man sees himself in all of them. The extent of their torture may not have been a courtesy extended from the Galra during his own confinement, but that doesn't mean that it is an experience he wants to relive, even if it is in his memories.

The tension is slow to ease, too slow for Keith's liking. He pulls back, allowing Hunk's words to wash over both aliens, avoiding the subject of Genwar as much as he is able, to avoid dragging Leonel back into his mind. Keith takes his place beside Shiro, once again playing the part of vigil, for both his team and… well, no, maybe just for the team.
The gift of trust goes both ways of course, and although the pirates are no longer enemies as such, it doesn't mean that Keith trusts them wholeheartedly. They took Lance away. How could he trust them?

Being a diplomat suits Hunk. He's a genuine teddy bear to anyone who needs a hug, and the best stand-in mom anyone could ask for.
Keith watches as both Rayon and Leonel are lulled by him. Not just his words but his entire being; real smiles and soft tones, the offer of comfort but the respect of space that keeps him one step back. He's on his knees, on the floor, not quite comfortable for himself, but showing those he kneels before that he trusts to be in their space because Hunk knows they won't hurt him. Or he hopes enough at least.

The spider calms, nodding along to Hunk's words and the slight niggle that pulls him towards sleep. Healing is exhausting work and he's done enough of it that he's had to regrow skin, bone and barb, all in the space of a day. Which means the third alien to wake would soon be asleep again, and the other two would still be kept wrapped in bubble-wrap by the others, lest Keith dare to overwhelm them with a simple question.

Where is he?

Even if Rayon and Kenmare were brothers, it was Leonel who held more similarities to the older, with their shared dislike for sleep and distrust of the team. Or perhaps distrust was being too strong of a word, considering that they had allowed Coran to remain in the med-bay with Uilt'xen while the rest of them convened in the dining hall for food.
It is with light conversation that the group sit and eat; snacking on hors d'oeuvres that Hunk whipped up, either to impress their new guests or so that there is an array of food so as all three can pick and choose what they'd like.

Keith sits beside Shiro, ignoring the sting of his arm. He hadn't bothered to let Coran put him in his own cryo-pod like the older Altean insisted, despite it being a shallow, barely-there wound. But now, Keith's left wondering if that was the best idea as he sits, doing his damnedest to be sociable and not run off to the training room to wear himself out and sleep, in hopes that he'll wake again when Uilt'xen does. It's a good idea. And actually, there's no reason not to.
His patience wasn't too strong at the moment and any chance of testing it would probably result in a fight. Verbal, physical, he didn't care. Actually, he's testing it right now, sat across from three aliens awake and one down the hall that won't talk—

Silence.

Nothing but silence.

Keith tore his eyes from his dinner plate before him, having been staring but not really seeing. Now, he looks up, to pale faces frozen in shock, fear, anger. They looked to the doorway, unmoving. Still as statues.
Dead eyes caught hers, silence the only understanding between them as suns burnt into oblivion, millennial wars were won and lost and time itself grew old.

"What is she doing here?"

Shiro was the first to stand. "We brought her with us. She is under our protection—"
"She is the reason we were caught in the first place," Rayon snarled, standing fast enough that the chair he had been occupying clattered to the floor. Orvis has barely any time to react, Leonel upon her before she can draw knife from gauntlet and defend herself.
Pidge, who had entered with the Arroyo was grabbed by Kenmare, who jumped away again, Pidge in his arms as if Orvis had been about to attack her, and not his brothers who hold her between their arms, snarling, roaring threats as she struggled against them.

"Stop!" But Shiro's command is silenced by Orvis's scream as Leonel drives a barb into her chest. He's not strong enough to pierce more than the surface, but with Rayon's hand and a sharp thrust, the barb sinks in an inch, pushing aside scale and flesh as they dive for her small, shrivelled heart.

"NO!"

None could understand the alien's actions, the team's initial reaction to save the girl that they had saved once before.
She wasn't a threat. Yes, maybe she had betrayed her friends once, spoke when torture became too much and the Galra rubbed the truth of the matter in the other's faces, to breed distrust between them… But what could she have done to warrant her own murder?

"Let her go!" Pidge yelled, wrestling herself from behind Kenmare, who had let the Green Paladin down in favour of joining his brothers in ridding themselves of the Arroyo. The Gremlin charged past Kenmare, their body their only weapon in aid to releasing Orvis before her lungs punctured, her heart pierced, her death certified.
Pidge wasn't fast enough.
They ducked beneath Rayon's outstretched arm, but it simply followed, and Pidge was caught, passed back to Kenmare in an instant, who held on this time, to keep the Paladin from their vicinity.

"Don't hurt her," Allura yelled, and it was she who was next to join the attempt to save Orvis from death. She was strong enough to push Rayon back, Keith by her side tackling Leonel, taking him and his natural weapons from the sheath of Orvis's chest. As it was withdrawn, the barb's tip hooked the chain from her neck, the gold glittering where it lay on the once-pristine floor of the dining hall, now stained with blood that flows from her chest.

Orvis is shaking, her palms unsteady as she holds out her knife, now useless in her grasp. "What—?" she begins, but a cough steals her words, blood on her tongue, her palm when she moves to hide her weakness in the confusion that… what is happening?

Leonel smiles the barest of smiles, his barbs lifting one after another. All of their tips are dipped in black fluid; the one that pierced her chest dripping with her blood and the black substance together, leaving a growing puddle on the floor.

"Vhoadan poison. You'll find no cure in time. You're as good as dead."

Allura shakes her head, steadying the Arroyo. Keith draws his bayard for the extra length to defend against the Vhoadan, eyeing the barbs with distrust. He understood now why he had been chained the way he had, the way Shiro described, as if he was the most dangerous of them all. And with the word 'poison' falling from his lips, it wasn't hard to see why.

Orvis's grip on her knife falters, the thing dropping to the floor, clattering away to the feet of Kenmare who roars in anger, now that their saviours are siding with the sakaala that murdered Valion.

"Don't help her," he growls, but the fist raised will not fall upon Shiro, who bars his path, his own weapon drawn. The familiar Galran glow jolts the younger twin, his mind casting him back to chains and whips and pain. "She deserves death!"
"She made a mistake, give her a chance," Shiro yells back. He only needs to buy enough time to calm the aliens. Then with Orvis in a healing pod, they could have Coran rid the poison from her system. She wouldn't die, if they could help it.

But lights and a hand of purple will not stay the rage of heartbreak. Kenmare charges the Black Paladin, arms around his waist, the instinct to fight tearing at logic that tells him these are his saviours, they don't know, they don't know—

"She deceived us!"
"That doesn't justify killing her!" Hunk shouted, rushing forward before the Draora could charge again, this time be forced to fend off the Princess who protects the one he sees as enemy.
His hand grabs Rayon to anchor him, loose enough to be shaken off. But he wasn't.

Hunk has harboured peace with the aliens from the beginning, their reason to trust him greater than any reason to trust the others. At least they don't fight Hunk. At least they try and explain to him their want of the Arroyo's death.
But Hunk won't understand, let alone give his approval because she… she was their family, right? And no matter how much family fought, that was no reason to fight them, ban their words and kill them without the opportunity given to hear what they have to say.

"She was the one that turned on us."
"She spoke truths to save herself—"
"NO! She betrayed us. She took herself to the Galra before we even attacked Genwar. She told them we were coming. She pulled the soldiers away from the Hycis so that we could get to them easier—"
"Then she was on your side," Hunk argued, but it wasn't for him to say, Rayon turning to him with anger and pain and rage, firing out of his mouth like bullets. "No, it wasn't to help us, it was to trap us and the Hycis alike."

Quiet fills the room once more.

The fight in the aliens don't leave them, but there is no outward struggle to take Orvis's life. They just stand there, watching her try to breathe, watching Allura try and stem the flow of blood that is now no more than a gentle trickle from her chest.

Hunk doesn't know what to think. None of them know what to think.
They don't even know what to say, what would alleviate the tension, or what would turn the Solnha against Voltron. They had to understand that the team didn't want to fight, but they fought enemies to save the innocent.
But they're saying that Orvis isn't innocent. They're saying that she is just as bad as the Galra…

Leonel's mandibles click in anger, the spotlight his for the taking with one step and hate-filled words. "She did it, because she knew we would all be at a disadvantage, trying to protect as well as to fight. She knew." He glares at her, fire meeting ice. Her eyes and his.

The team hesitates for a second time, their minds trying to understand claims that they have no knowledge of. And not enough to know of any of them to know who was lying…

Orvis doesn't defend herself, doesn't fight back, ignoring the blood on her lips. She only glares, as if challenging the others to really kill her.

Allura takes a half step back.

"You always wanted him, didn't you," Rayon growls, a faint sadness in the undertones of his voice, as he fights emotion to stay angry, stay strong in rage and not to crumble apart in tears like he wants to. Keith can see it, can see himself in the moments that Rayon feels more than just fire in his gut at the thought that another has laid a hand on his family.

"You didn't want him like Gereen, like your brother, but you wanted him all the same. To hurt Eldar. To hurt us. To hurt him."

Orvis just bit out laughter. "I didn't want to hurt him. I wanted to kill him."

The confession is enough to pull Allura from her side, to halt Pidge and Shiro's internal battle.
Orvis wasn't one of the Solnha. She might've been, once, but the confusion to where she stood was cleared in the instant when she pulled the handle from her hip, the small baton twirled in her hand menacingly. In another instant, her fingers squeezed the grip of a bo staff, the weapon having shifted longer, heavier.

The Draora levelled his eyes with Orvis, murder in his entire being. "You did kill him. You killed Valion."

"And I enjoyed doing so."
She smiles, taking delight in the horror shared between all that gather, the bo in her hands twisted until the end points out, catching the gold that glitters on the floor. She hooks it, lifts it, and draws it back to her hand as if the thing is some prized possession. Kenmare stiffens at the recognition, Rayon and Leonel throwing her death threats.

Not a prized possession. A trophy.

Something keeps the pirates back from trying to kill her again. Maybe they want the truth. Maybe they want the team to learn just what she has done before they deal with her for good.

"I smelt this on him the second our blades met," Orvis said, the gold laid on the dorsal of her hand, ignoring the blood that tainted the metal. "It's got Eldar's stench all over it. It's his claim, isn't it," she smiles, sharp teeth bared between on show. "It's not a claim," Kenmare growled, taking the bait. "Valion isn't someone to be claimed."
"No? Guess not. He didn't accept Gereen's claim, nor Ovule's, but then none of them gave him pretty jewellery. I didn't realise the culm was so weak to be won over by a trinket."

The words are an obvious taunt, but the personal nature was taken to heart by all three Solnha. There was no restraint that would hold them back, and to no one's surprise, they rushed in. But three injured, weak aliens compared to one who didn't face torture was an obvious disadvantage. But driven by rage and vengeance wouldn't allow the three to fall.
And this time, there were no Paladins to hold them back or to stop them when the Arroyo was disarmed, pinned to the floor with each Draora holding her down by her arms, Leonel standing over her with three barbs pressing into her scales.

Keith could see Shiro was fighting the morality of it all, Allura and Hunk torn just as much.

Pidge watched, ready for the bitch's death.

And it would come.

"I should make you suffer," Leonel spat, his voice shaking, his fourth and final barb hovering above her neck. The gold charm, the last remaining possession of Valion was held in his hand, tainted by her blood.
"Just like I made you suffer?" Orvis laughed back. She's not scared. Death is a certainty with the Vhoadan's poison pumping through her veins, but she knows they don't have the stomach to do to her what she did to them.

"What are you going to do? Tie me up? Chain me to the wall? Whip me, bleed me, make me tell you I'm sorry for killing Valion," she teases. Her tail squirms beside her, but the shift of a barb and it is impaled, pinned to the floor instead of her left arm. Orvis yells out in pain, but the sound dissolves into a mixture of coughs and laughter once more.

Shiro takes a step forward, but at Rayon's look, his feet falter. No one else makes to interrupt, all too busy listening to the Arroyo's confession. "Are you going to make me scream, like I made Uilt'xen scream when I burnt her with Valion's own sword?"
Kenmare winces at the memory of his lover screaming, feet from him yet he himself unable to save her as he remained chained to the wall.

Orvis just turns her head to face his brother. "Are you going to cut me with his blade, like I cut all of you? Why don't you tear off my scales, see what's underneath?"
Rayon averts his eyes, closes them. He's pale, like he's fighting the urge to vomit as he is forced to recall his own torment.

The she-arroyo looks up to the last that stands over her. "Or are you going to tear me apart, limb by limb? Throw my tail to the bemis, watch it grow back and start all over again."

The bitch paints a terrifying picture, but to those she tortured for days on end, it is so much more. It is a memory, one they don't want to relive, but with her words she's dragging up all that pain, all that fear until they're shaking with more than just anger.
Kenmare fights the convulsions of his body. Rayon himself refuses to open his eyes. She's bringing them down, again, just using her words to bind them to the moment of torture, agony, crippling-fear—

"You'd just enjoy it."

Eyes turn to the door, where the newcomer stands, holding her limbs awkwardly where they still pain her from being broken, dislocated and forced back together just so it could all be done again.
"I thought you were dead," Orvis says from where she's pinned to the floor, not really concerned for Uilt'xen's sudden appearance. The Daratrine fixed her with a dark look. "I wish I could say the same as you. But you wouldn't die that easy. Neither that thing you call your brother."
The insult to Ovule is the only thing that Orvis reacts to. She even snarls, a fight to her limbs but with the strength of the Draora holding her down, she's not moving anytime soon.

Uilt'xen can move though. She isn't held back by anyone, anything. Pushed though, by revenge. The desire for vengeance that makes her take those painful steps towards the one that tortured her, that drove the knife into her chest, laughed when Uilt'xen screamed, laughed harder when the twist of the blade pushed Uilt'xen to the point of sanity and almost beyond.
Almost.

"You took our brother from us. You used the Hycis as bait, and killed the ones that couldn't escape to torture us that little bit more."
"Worked didn't it," Orvis smiled, but Uilt'xen continued, as if the Arroyo hadn't spoken. "And it made me wonder. If you could kill them before us, then you'd do the same to him, wouldn't you."
The bitch's smile faltered. Even the other three turned their eyes to Uilt'xen with confusion.

Keith watched on, halfway between confusion and hope. For them. That Uilt'xen's words meant that—
"You wouldn't have killed him like that. You would've drawn it out. If not killing him before us, then just to torment Valion that much more, you'd kill us instead, one by one with him watching on, knowing he couldn't do anything to save us."

Orvis fought again, snarling at the accusation that—
"Valion is still alive. You didn't kill him, like you told us, over and over. Even if he had died in that battle, you would've found his body and thrown it at our feet, just for the sake of breaking us that little bit more." Orvis snarled in defiance, but Keith could see that the anger was more than just to Uilt'xen's claim that she was lying.
"You thrive on lies, Orvis. You twist minds because you're not strong enough to hold onto any real power by yourself. You twisted Gereen into your perfect little puppet, making sure that we all hated him, all focus on him, instead of you. You turned him on Prime, turned the crew on each other when they began to question who they were following and why."
"How—?" Orvis growled, but Uilt'xen just keeps going. "But you were weak, even then. You only had Garecht spying on you, on your own crew because that was where the greatest threat had lain. Ovule kept them all following your orders, and Garecht slunk about, trying to catch out so-called "traitors" that you could drug up until you could use them without anyone trying to set things straight."

Uilt'xen stands over the bitch now, looking down upon her like the dirt she was.

"You killed Garecht didn't you. When Valion won, and Gereen lost."
"He was weak," Orvis yelled, anger getting the better of her. She struggled harder, but in vain. "He was useless, pathetic and annoying. Of course I killed him."
"But you didn't kill Valion," Uilt'xen smiled, her voice beginning to speak with the flow of emotion. Teasing, like Orvis's own words once were, but the layer underneath is undeniable heartbreak.

She's lying too, Keith realises, but Orvis doesn't know. She can't hear, when all she focuses on are words that tear her stake to shreds, her hope of ridding herself of a pest brought to naught with the simplest of words.

"You couldn't kill him. He was stronger than you. Stronger than all of us."
"He's dead—"
"He's not. Because you couldn't kill him—"
"No, he's dead, he's dead! I killed him myself, he's dead!" Orvis screamed, repeating the words over and over as she thrashed. Her tantrum was much like a child's who hadn't got their own way. And that was all she was; weak, childish. Sly and conniving, turning her back on people that she could control no longer, turning to the Galra that she thought she could use, for the sake of her own twisted form of revenge.
Revenge on the Solnha, for not being her pawns.

"He's dead, I killed him, he's dead, he's dead, HE'S DEAD!"

"Oh, shut the fuck up."

Keith could stand it no longer, crossing the distance in two sharp strides. Orvis barely had time to flick her eyes from the Daratrine to the half-Galra before he raised his foot. And to the chorus of all gathered, Keith brought down the heel of his foot, crushing throat, windpipe, spine.

Orvis's last breath rattled in her chest.

Silence fills the room once more.
Thick, heavy, painful silence, only broken by the sounds of the four retreating from the dead body. Kenmare gathers Uilt'xen in his arms, but she doesn't return the affection; too drained, too broken to do much more than meet the other three's eyes.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you too." But they don't blame her.
Uilt'xen's words were to hurt Orvis, to crush her last 'achievement' before they killed her. A little of their own revenge in placement for the death of their comrade.

The team say nothing when the weight brings them to their knees. Tears are shed, comfort sought and given in the same instance as the four of them relive Valion's death over and over again.
Keith knows the pain of false hope, built by his own uncontrollable thoughts that had grown inside him when he, in that base that they were tortured, ran forth blindly in hopes that it was Lance in that healing-pod and not that damn Galra that deserved death, a thousand times over. Just like Orvis, just like Zarkon, just like every enemy they have ever faced and are yet to stand before on the battlefield.

He had hoped that killing the bitch, like she deserved would bring him some sort of comfort. But it did nothing to quench the thirst for enemy blood, did nothing for the sake of bringing him closer to the boy that is somewhere, out there, waiting for them.

But a fear scratched at his throat as his eyes swept across the Solnha, a niggling thought fearing that that would be him, and the team if Lance was to share the same fate as Valion.